


That Night We Scorched the Sky

by severinne



Category: Star Trek AOS
Genre: Angst, Divorce, Drunk Sex, F/M, Hate Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:19:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/pseuds/severinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beneath fireworks and an endless night, Leonard and Jocelyn fall somewhere between the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Night We Scorched the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Written for picfor1000 Challenge 11 for [this picture prompt](http://www.flickr.com/photos/raymondoh/6683453437/lightbox/).

‘Have you been sulking and boozing all night?’

Leonard scowled, keeping his gaze fixed on the fireworks shredding the night sky over Atlanta. ‘Course not,’ he drawled sullenly. He had spent most of the evening tending to Joanna, watching her sleep in her crib until his heart damn near broke in half. After that, bourbon was inevitable. ‘You’re back early.’

‘Dull party.’ He warily watched the shimmer of Jocelyn’s dress loom larger in the window’s reflection, its gold bloodied by a shower of red sparks outside. ‘And maybe I missed you.’

‘Bullshit.’ Leonard took another strong swig of his drink. ‘Only reason I’m here is ‘cause you were desperate for a babysitter.’ Convenience had won his place here, and was surely the only thing drawing her close enough for him to detect the gin on her breath. ‘And you’ve been drinking too.’

‘That’s what folks do on New Year’s Eve,’ she murmured, her vowels honeyed and thick. ‘They drink, they count the seconds until midnight, they kiss…’

Leonard flinched away, caught the soft brush of her lips against his unshaven jaw instead. ‘Don’t,’ he rasped, barely a whisper.

‘ _Don’t._ ’ Slender fingers snared his neck, the bite of fingernails holding him captive and close. Beneath the florid whiff of too many cocktails, the subtle spice of her shampoo teased his memory like a damned disease. He squeezed his eyes shut as Jocelyn’s touch gentled, playing lightly with the ends of his hair.

‘You stubborn fool.’ Her sodden drawl sharpened with irritation. ‘Any wonder I had to get away from you, the way you keep pushing me away…’

‘You pushed me away first.’

‘Like hell.’ Jocelyn snatched her hand away. ‘You shut me out, stopped coming home, decided you’d rather drink than talk…’

‘Damn it, you know why–’

‘Not that again...’

‘I needed _time_ –’

‘I needed you!’ Her shout burst louder than the fireworks outside, startling Leonard’s eyes open. ‘I still do,’ she added, heavy with accusation.

‘Joss…’ Guilt seeped the strength from his limbs, letting her pluck the drink from his fingers all too easily and drain it dry before setting the glass aside.

‘You owe me, Len,’ she said, swaying slightly as she straightened upright and proud. ‘You owe _us._ ’

His hands empty and useless, Leonard stared hopelessly into the bursts of fireworks flashing off her gold dress until his eyes watered.

‘Get those clothes off, darling.’

He caught the rumpled hem of his shirt, trying his damnedest to think of Joanna, of that precious, oblivious life smashed apart by his grief and failure. She was well worth letting the last of his tired clothing fall in a heap on the polished floor; he was a surgeon, he knew how to break a body to make things better.

His naked skin shivered beneath Jocelyn’s crawling gaze, his nerves electrified beneath the first sweep of fingertips up his bicep, across a tensed shoulder. ‘Never was anything wrong with this,’ Jocelyn said absently as her hand wandered down the centre of his chest, over his fluttering stomach. ‘Even now… look at you…’

Her soft hand curling around him, a touch so unlike his own, shocked the scowl from his lips. He reached unthinkingly for her, grasping at her body like an anchor and moaning when she pressed so willingly into him. The golden scales sewn to her dress scratched at the itch building beneath his skin as Jocelyn caught his slackened mouth in a slow, sultry kiss, lip gloss clinging to his chapped lips as though refusing to let him go now this had started. There was no way out but forward, a needy thrust into her hand, an upward tug at her dress that pulled that wanton little sound from Jocelyn’s throat.

‘Knew you still wanted this,’ she purred, giving his cock a rough squeeze. ‘Never could control yourself…’

‘Shut the hell up.’ Bitter anger surged through his hands as they hitched up her dress, stockings ripping loudly in his scramble to destroy all that dainty fabric and bury his fingers inside her. Her sharp cry burst upon his lips like the satisfying first bite into a peach, so bright and wet on his fingers. He wanted more, wanted to ruin her garish frock and her resolve, even if it meant sinking to his knees and giving her every damn thing she demanded with her cruel words and fingers twisting in his hair.

It ended quickly with him on his back, hips arching off the floor as Jocelyn clenched around him, clawed indelible marks deep across his chest, and collapsed forward in a sated heap, breasts spilled loose of her torn dress and blonde hair suffocating him like a shroud. Leonard gasped for breath, growing cold against the hard floor until a faint cry from down the hall sparked warmth in his chest, tugged every instinct left in Leonard’s exhausted body.

‘Jo...’ He started, but Jocelyn had heard too, was already on her feet and struggling with her tangled dress. ‘I’ll get her,’ he offered, but Jocelyn stilled him with a glare.

‘Like hell you will,’ she snapped. ‘I think you should go.’

‘Joss...’ His own weak orgasm had burned off the bourbon; he blinked dazedly after her, saw her remorse grow large behind her eyes. She shoved her hair back off her face with both hands, stole all the air in the room on a single inhale.

‘Just.... go home, Len.’

‘Damn it, I don’t have a home.’ This apartment was the last home he had known. His fingers clawed for purchase on the slippery floors, finding no handhold with which to resist her command.

‘Don’t be so dramatic.’ A quick tug brought her hemline back down to her knees. ‘I want you gone by the time I’ve got Jo back down.’

He nodded vaguely in time to the click of her heels down the hall, a clock counting down the minutes remaining to him.

Until then, he stared out the window and watched Atlanta’s skyline burst into flame.


End file.
